Summary: Sara Bellum has a second job.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content Warning: Self-indulgent fanfiction.

Author's Note: All of the anecdotes in the evaluations section are true stories.

"Oh go Gram-Schmidt an infinite dimensional set!" Sara shouted, throwing down the wrench and stalking off.

"Don't worry." Carmen instructed Lars, before he could start a commentary. "You're not expected to know what that meant."

"I have a vague idea." He chuckled. "Go away, right?"

"Well it is more than that…" Carmen mused. "It conveys a sense of futility, the struggle against an endless, impossible, and monotonous task… an endless set of iterations, a Sisyphean …"

"Oh for Pete's sake boss, don't go all philosophical on me. She told you to leave her alone in dweeb speak."

Frowning, Carmen corrected. "Don't use that word Lars, it's pejorative."

"Oh come on, you are not going all politically correct on…" He saw her look. "Fine, what do I get to call Sara?"

Though her raised eyebrow suggested that he might have missed the point, Carmen grabbed a screwdriver, flipped on her side, and crawled into the section of her hovercraft that had been so exasperating Sara. "You'd be safer with either geek or nerd." Her voice took on a metallic echo. "Those aren't often a problem unless you use them in the wrong context."

"Really those aren't derogatory?"

"You'd think, but no. Though neither is really the best way to define Sara, so…"

"How about bat crazy?"

It might have been an echo, or Carmen might have sighed. "You should be more kind to Sara. She wasn't always this way, you know. Hand me that bolt, please."

"You mean that insane old hag used to be normal?"

"Lars!"

"Sorry! So err…" He shifted his feet awkwardly. "What uh… you know, did that to her."

Carmen actually pulled herself up over the metal brace and made eye contact for her answer. "The tenure process can break a person." She looked genuinely sad.

"You mean Sara tried to be a professor?"

"More than tried, she succeeded." Carmen said wryly. "Her algorithm for estimating the uncertainty in internal stresses of very large objects moving under unevenly applied forces was high-quality work. I should know. It's the reason Mount Everest is still in a single piece. "

Lars rolled his eyes. "Sara can't possibly be a professor."

"She can, and she is."

"Is right now?" Lars kvetched. "But she's always here."

Carmen shrugged. "It turns out one doesn't have to spend much time at the university to hold down a professorship."

"But doesn't she have… responsibilities or something?"

"Well," Carmen mused, lowering herself back to where she could work on the engine. "She does have a research group. It's my understanding that they manage very well without her. The occasional email seems to suffice. I did have a bit of trouble last year, when they all needed her signature on their annual reviews and she was imprisoned."

"Wow, how'd you handle that?"

"Forgery, of course."

"Oh… right that should have been obvious. Err… money?"

"There is a rather unethical grant she has a tendency to win."

"Oh… sorry boss I'm slow tonight. Lucky Sara... Um… there was something else…"

"Teaching, probably."

"Wait what? Sara teaches!"

"It's a requirement." The echo informed him. "Now, where did I put that solder?"

"Man, I'd love to hear what her students think of her."

"Be my guest." Carmen's hand reached above the rim of the craft and held up her communicator. "Search for the folder employees backslash sara backslash teaching underscore e-v-a-l-s, no capital letters.

He was a little scared to handle the tech. "Um boss… you're seriously letting me touch your computer thing?"

"Yes I am." She pulled herself up for another moment, and gave him an appraising look. "Let me assure you, if you look at anything I don't explicitly direct you to, there will be no place for you to hide."

He stammered, "I was more worried about breaking it."

"If it can survive a fall from the empire state building, I doubt you will have much effect."

"Um…" He didn't know what caused his sudden run of ethics. "Should I really be looking at this?"

"I doubt it."

"Then why are you letting me?"

"Because" Carmen resumed her work, "I have eighty four fastenings to undo, and it's getting monotonous."

"Man boss, the things you do when you're bored." No answer. "Kidding." He started to scroll through the comments. "She failed a student for no reason?"

"In all fairness," Carmen remarked. "That student was cutting class. Sara was just a little vague on her attendance policy… and abrupt on her enforcement… and unsympathetic about snowstorms."

"She assigned six required textbooks and then lectured out of a seventh?"

"Hand me that three-quarters wrench, please. I don't know what her logic was there."

Lars forked over the tool. "So did you know that Sara assigned a double length homework set over thanksgiving and then laughed manically?"

"I'll grant that was a little cruel, but she was well within her rights. You may want safety glasses for this next part"

After putting on the eyewear and hitting a few buttons Lars looked a little confused. "Boss, what's cold calling?"

"It refers to when one calls on a student who has not raised his or her hand."

"OK so cold calling only the same three students in the same order every class would be…"

"Vindictive." Carmen remarked. "Or possibly a sign that she only learned three names." She made a frustrated sound. "Would you pass over the milling cutter please? These threads are in terrible condition."

He took his best guess and handed over what he hoped was the device she wanted. "Sara gave her class a final exam in a different subject than the one she taught all semester?"

Carmen's voice was a bit more muffled. "Sara can be too literal. Someone cross listed the course and she got confused."

"And they kept the grades?"

"That was the administration's choice, not Sara's. I'm going to need a stand for this, would you check by the toolbox please?"

Holding the communicator in one hand, Lars kept reading as he searched. "She has an automatic tissue dispenser by her desk?"

"For convenience, yes."

"And published a manual where all the symbols were converted to wingdings?"

"Yes. "

"Here's your stand."

"Thank you."

The two were silent for a while, as Carmen retooled the threads and Lars kept reading. When Lars resumed, he sounded a bit less chipper. "Did she really refuse an extension to a person who was seriously sick because 'sickness is weakness and weakness is not to be accommodated?'"

Carmen sighed. "Yes. Would you hand me the screwdriver again please?"

Lars didn't seem interested in the repairs. "And told a student to jump out of a window?"

"Technically, they asked her permission, and she said she had no objection."

"That's terrible!"

"Relax, Lars. It was a first-story window. They're fine. Now, may I please have that screwdriver?"

A bit angry, Lars relinquished the item. "Wow, here's a student that likes her." He remarked, looking at a particular evaluation. "She actually got a few good numbers."

"You should probably read the whole thing…." Carmen noted.

Pulling up the screen, Lars found the full commentary and read verbatim. "'Professor Bellum takes class time to ask random trivia questions about the fifty states. If you get an answer right, she throws a quarter at you. If you get it wrong, and you're a foreign exchange student, she offers you a free long distance call home and demands you use it on the spot, even if it means waking your parents up at four in the morning. She seems to think this is productive. I'm giving her a good rating because I really needed the money to do laundry.' …. Oh."

"I think that's enough for now, Lars, don't you?"

Though he wasn't sure why he cared in the first place, Lars decided he had to ask. "After all this, you seriously let Sara teach people?"

"Graduate students." Carmen remarked. "She's not allowed to teach undergraduates anymore."

Lars didn't know enough about academia to assess that statement. "Is that better?"

Metallic clanking emanated from the inside of the contraption. "Her employers seem to think so."

"But…" The lackey tried to reason it out. It wasn't easy, as he'd never been in college himself and wasn't familiar with the construct. "Aren't those people just undergraduates a few years later?"

"They're a good deal more jaded." Carmen answered. "Don't worry, I checked. Sara's not ruining any lives."

"You sure?"

Carmen shrugged. "As sure as I care to be."

THE END